Midgar's Chorus
by Daeowan
Summary: Years before the events of the game, many men and women experienced an adventure of their own. These unsung heroes would never be known to the world, no one would know that these people saved their lives through sacrifice and struggle. This is their story
1. Prologue

Prologue  
  
Azure Inferna ran her slender fingers through her purplish blue hair, slipping a few stray strands behind her ear. Rare was it that anyone would ever see her hair anything less than perfect. It always hung shoulder length, diligently combed and preened until it lay evenly on all sides, her bangs sitting behind her ears as if they were meant to from the beginning of her life. Only through strenuous exertion did it ever fall from place even just a little, and Azure had just exerted herself quite a lot these past few moments.  
  
Loose parchments and books lay at her feet, beneath her freshly shined black leather shoes and all about the floor. A mostly empty bookcase stood at her side, looking as if its contents were swiftly removed from its strong wooden shelves. And indeed they were. Azure's loose strands of her glimmering hair were a testiment to that.  
  
Not far ahead of the woman in the deep blue suit lay a man shaking the stars from his head. His white dress shirt torn and spattered with his own blood and his face battered and bruised. He lay face down, groaning incoherently and struggling to move. Slowly, the man pressed his open palms to the floor on either side of his head and forced himself up, trying desperately to retain some of his dignity. He lurched onto a forearm for support and allowed his broken right hand to release his weight. The fingers were bent weirdly in all directions, shaking and twitching at the agony that no doubt ripped through him. Gasping and screaming silently from the pain, the man tried to peer through the crimson curtain that draped over his tear filled eyes, reaching pitifully in his assailant's direction.   
  
Azure kicked a book or two aside as she approached the man with calm and deliberate strides. She adjusted her fingerless gloves and brushed her sleeves casually, taking care not to step on the man, who had slumped into a pile again on the floor, and possibley end the fun a little too soon. Her deceptively petite body eased into a crouch before the man, her left hand shooting out and grabbing a handfull of his dirty black hair and tugging his head up violantly.   
  
"Enjoying it?" she purred. Her pale blue narrow eyes eased into a menacing stare, lips curled smoothly into an almost seductive smile. He could not match that stare. He shuddered quietly and sobbed, not knowing how to respond without incurring more of her wrath. She shook an answer from him. Literally.   
  
"Y-yes!" he stammered. His voice broken and his words desperate as tears began to stream down his normally calm face. He was terrified for his life. Azure was loving it. What a positively orgasmic moment! thought Azure. Always the dominating type and a lover of enducing pain in her men, the past half an hour was the most fun she had experienced in months. Jobs like this rarely ever came up, and for that she was thankful. She dreaded the thought of growing bored of this game, though she felt quite sure at that moment that such a thing would never happen. She promptly dropped his head back down to the carpeted floor, making sure he landed on the corner of a book, chuckling as she listened to his shriek of pain.   
  
She thought back to what this man had done. The poor guy had seen a few things he never should have seen and was stupid enough to try and run. Azure was given the pleasure of hunting him down and making sure he didn't share his newly aquired information with anyone that might threaten her employers. Unfortunately for his wife, he did just that. Azure turned her gaze to the foot of the bed where she lay now in a pool of her own blood. Her neck was twisted halfway around and arms were laying in simply the wrong positions. Face down, she noted with a chuckle, not unlike her husband here.she knew that he had no intention of turning his information against her employers, that he simply wanted to get out, to get away from the things he saw that made him a target. Azure knew that, and she might have been able to let him live.   
  
But where was the fun in that?   
  
"Oh, Mr.Gray," she began rather somberly. "Why oh why did you involve her in this?" The young woman swept her hand to display the macabre sight of Mrs.Gray's twisted corpse, to tear away at his soul and to draw on that pang of guilt that made all of this so bitter sweet.   
  
Muffled sobs from the floor below were the only reply from the beaten Shinra scientist. He clawed uselessly at the floor, much to her amusement, and tried to prop himself back up again. His crying was beginning to annoy her, and she made a point to have it stopped. Rising and stepping back gingerly, she reached out and slipped her hand behind the mostly empty bookcase and calmly pushed it over, watching the heavy wooden thing slowly fall on top the helpless wretch with an agonizing crash. Calen Gray cried out in pain, grabbed her pantleg with a bloodied and mangled hand, then lay very still.   
  
Azure sighed and shook her head as she knelt down, drawing a white hankerchief from her coat pocket, and wiped the blood from her valuable suit. She wished it could have went on longer, but the human body was so frail and weak, hardly enough to endure the many games she liked to play. Her playthings never lasted as long as she wished they would, thanks in no small part to her superiors, who always had her chase wirey young scientists or old decrepid business men. Not much to them, and she often overstepped her bounds before she began to really enjoy herself. Still, tonight helped her quench her thirst, her thirst for the pain and suffering of another.   
  
Her watch beeped, and a genuine smile creased her delicate features as she pulled back her sleeve to silence it. Right on time, she mused. How fortunate that he gave up so quickly. She didn't want to be late for her debriefing this time, as she desperately wanted to be given something a little more fun to do. Torturing skinny little men and killing their loved ones was always enjoyable, but it didn't compare to some of the work her associates were given. She had to climb the ladder. Being the new girl on the block made things tedious and oftentimes very boring, as the work she had been assigned to so far was well withing her capability. She looked around the overturned room, chuckling to herself as she recalled how carried away she had gotten. She did that sometimes, and things always ended up broken or thrown accross the room when that happened.   
  
"Best be going," she said softly to herself. "But first..."   
  
Azure raised her gloved hand, palm facing outward, and hovered it over the broken pile at her feet where Mr. Calen Gray lay dead beneath a fifty pound bookshelf. She whirled her hand deftly in a slow circular motion and closed her eyes as she focused her thoughts. A deep contented sigh escaped her, and when she opened her eyes, the pile, man, books, and bookself and all, floated in the air before her. She eased her outstretched hand forward, and the floating debris floated forward. She pulled her hand back, and the pile floated gently toward her. Finally she threw her hand outward, sending the pile sailing accross the room in a tangled heap and out a the large livingroom window. Glass shattered and sprayed in a cascade of sorrow and pity, though it sounded like music to her ears. She smiled approvingly to herself as she watched the curtains dance with the wind, and turned to leave as she heard a terrible crash in the streets far below.   
  
It was good to be a Turk, she decided privately. It was so much fun. 


	2. Chapter One Alpha

Chapter One: Alpha   
  
Torrent Kelamere hummed to himself as he hurried down the dimly lit path that would lead him to sector two. He glanced here and there, always noticing the faint light that constantly bathed everything below the surface plate where he now walked. All of the slums had a strange yellowish glow. Whether it was from the sporadic placement of lights one hundred feet above his heads or some kind of glowing toxic waste no one could say for sure. Some even believed both. But no matter how you sliced it, it was all too eerie to Torrent. A glow like this just didn't seem right or natural to him.   
  
Torrent was a sturdy young man who had only recently turned 21. His mother was celebrating the occasion a little late this year thanks to her illness, a strange flu-like sickness that had kept her incapacitated for days at a time. He didn't mind of course, because today she was well. And what's more, she was going to bake his cake today. The bounce in his step and the smile on his face was apparent. Everything was working out so well for him this week.   
  
The youth's short auburn hair stood on end, spiked in random directions giving him the "bed head" look he was so fond of. It had a sort of chaotic order to it since it always seemed to take the same shape every morning, no matter how random he was about styling it. His eyes were deep brown pools of chestnut, rich with youthful energy and vigor. Rare was it this young man wasn't smiling, and today was no exception.   
  
Lightly armored in thin black mesh and carrying a sheathed longsword at his side he felt like he was on top of the world. Nothing could stop him from his errand, his great quest for the day, which called for him to retrieve a few ingredients for his double layered chocolate cake.   
  
The very thought made him lick his lips with anticipation and he clapped his hands and rubbed them together as he let the thought dwindle. Soon he found himself easing into a light jog. His clinking armor and leather outfit did little to hide his presence, but he could honestly care less that day.   
  
Hidden deep under one of the many huge piles of trash that flanked the battered path, three insect-like creatures noted the youth with more than a passing interest.   
  
Torrent stopped abruptly and strained his ears. Was that clicking? Turning cautiously and peering out into the trash-covered landscape, Torrent carefully moved his hand closer to the hilt of his blade. Garbage from the surface was everywhere, piled high in all directions with some columns towering high above the others. The path was relatively clean of litter and covered with a soft sandy brown dirt that kicked up a cloud of dust with the slightest motion. It was thanks to that tendancy that Torrent was given enough warning before he was attacked.   
  
From beneath a piece of sheet metal erupted a creature the size of a small dog. It scurried with frenzied speed, its clawed front legs tapping hungrily as it moved with amazing speed. It leapt into the air, clicking and chattering, and was promptly sliced in half.   
  
Torrent breathed a sigh of relief as he lifted his blade from the ground. His father had taught him well. Pure instinct and reflex had saved him, drawing his sword and bringing it to bare before him before he was even aware of it. The cut was clean and the two halves of the creature landed with a sickening splat inches from his feet on either side of him. He cocked his head to the side, recognizing the creature, knowing that this species rarely hunted alone.   
  
His experience with the beast paid off a moment later as something fell with a clang behind him. He spun about in time to see the dust already settling from around a filthy black kettle. Torrent took a slow breath, calming his tense nerves, and planted his feet beneath him. He could run for it, he thought, perhaps he could outpace them and get to the safety of the sector two wall. He immediately dismissed the idea, however, remembering the hideous speed of the first creature. There was no way he could outrun something with four legs, let alone six.   
  
A smile played accross his youthful face. He remembered walking this very same path with his father a year before, going back to back with him as they were attacked by these very same creatures. How he missed his father now. This situation reminded him vividly of the man who had raised him to be strong and confident, yet taught him strong principles and kept him ordered. How he missed his father, especially now.   
  
There came a rattle, then the two remaining creatures scuttled out from their hiding places and moved to attack from both sides. Torrent turned and backpeddled, keeping one creature on either side of him. He knew if one managed to sneak behind him that he was dead. His father had always stressed the point of having a quick and sure step as well a well executed attack. One simply could not fight and keep proper balance without knowing how to position their feet. Thanks to this knowledge, he kept them at a relatively safe angle quite easily, running backwards toward sector two.   
  
The one on his left screeched and leapt forward. Torrent's sword was ready to greet it, slicing through one of it's two front legs and sending it sprawling to the ground. He didn't have long to congratulate himself for his skill this time, however, as the second lunged forth a split second later and almost crashed into the youth with its wicked claws. He managed to bring his sword back up and he was able to make a blinding cut accross, apparently scoring a solid hit. The first creature was crawling toward him, since the loss of a limb didn't seem to hinder the movement of these creatures. The other writhed and clicked furiously as it faught death, its innards spilling out onto the path. Torrent winced and looked away, focusing on the final enemy.   
  
But it seemed that the last creature had lost heart for the hunt and began to scurry away, and Torrent let it go. He didn't enjoy killing, but sometimes it was necessary. He found a cloth, or possibley a rug, and cleaned his blade before sheathing it again and turning to continue down the path.   
  
This was a dampener on his good day, and he frowned as the sector two wall grew larger as he approached it. Taking a deep breath and remembering the cake his mother was going to prepare, he found a smile again, and ran the rest of the way.

* * *

Chorus Blayde watched the sun set over the largest structure in Midgar, Shinra Tower. Behind him lay Kalm, an aptly named little town. For a settlement sitting so close to the crowded and polluted monstrosity known as Midgar, Kalm was clean, pure, and well, calm. He had enjoyed his stay there, however brief, as it allowed him to forget his duties for a time. Sadly, he and his associates had to board a carriage, on which he now rode, and head for the dark and dreary capitol only a half an hour's ride south east.   
  
It looked so menacing from the outside. It was so dark, from the black towers and buildings as well as the scorched and dying land around it. Shinra denied for so long that their Mako reactors did nothing to the earth, yet Midgar was surrounded by dead land. The coarse rubble that was once furtile soil encircled the city like a shadow, giving the city a horrific look. Shinra's evil eminated from here like an aura. It made Chorus shiver with disgust.   
  
He sighed inwardly and ran his hand through his thick blonde mane. He kept it long and unkempt, though it fell into place easily enough. Eyes of the deepest blue pierced through his gace and he glaced downward, staring at his heavy laced boots. His skin was light, almost pale, but was smooth and even feminine. His armor, dominantly dark shades of black with hints of crimson red along the seams, hung loosely all about him. Only his fingers and face above the nose could be seen as he chose to wear a soft red fabric accross it. His sword, a monsterous thing, was held point down before him, supporting his weight as he leaned upon it, deep in thought. So much was going to happen in the coming days, he knew. Would he be fit to lead this crew?   
  
"Hey! Stop worrying already," came a strong female voice to his right. "You're making me nervous."   
  
Chorus turned and regarded her. Valkyrie. Such a strong and confident woman. She never worried about anything besides her ammunition supply, it seemed. That and maybe another member of his troup, a stealthy and humourous fellow who called himself Scythe. The pair didn't bother to hide the fact that they were more than friends, but remained as professional as Chorus could ask for when they were on the field. Scythe was sitting calmly next to Val, arms crossed over his lean chest and eyes closed. Chorus smiled.   
  
"It's my job to worry, Val." he said easily, glad for the temporary relief from his thoughts. Valkyrie had made it her personal mission to keep her leader's spirits high, and she always did a great job. "Someone has to do it, since we all can't just shoot anything that moves."   
  
Valkyrie grinned slyly and gave Chorus a shove. "We each have our talents. I happen to be the best shot of group," she declared. "... when I decide to aim, that is." she added quickly, spying her leaders cocky grin.   
  
"And you know, I wouldn't mind if you did that a little more often," said Core, the group's muscle man. He was huge, standing 6'8" and weighing well over two hundred pounds. Tight corded muscle over tight corded muscle. His weapon of choise was set in the same position as Chorus' sword, a ridiculously large hammer that even he had to wield with two hands. "You almost pegged me in the foot when we were crossing that snake-filled marsh a day ago, you psycho!" he said with a laugh.   
  
"Well it's hard enough to shoot around your fat ass!" Valkyrie retorted jokingly. "And you move around so much for a big guy, it's hard to keep track of you sometimes!"   
  
Core smiled and shrugged helplessly. Though he was indeed a powerhouse, whoever had trained the big man to fight made it a point that movement was just as important as strength. Most fighters, Chorus included, were as quick on their feet as they were with their swords, but Core was something else. As imposing and intimidating as he was, he was remarkabley gentle and sensitive, which was rare among men of his kind, who had egos as big as their barrel chests.   
  
"Where's Zennie?" Scythe asked suddenly, not bothering to open his eyes. "You didn't leave her behind did you? That's bad parenting. I outta report you to social services, boss!" He grinned and finally opened his eyes to wink. Chorus chuckled and shook his head as he pointed skyward. Looking up and seeing only ceiling, Scythe was about to question his friends further, but when he caught a disctinct voice from outside the carriage, he knew where Zennie had climbed off to.   
  
"Chocobo! Chocobo! Whee!" came a familiar girlish voice outside.   
  
"She's on the freaking roof of the carriage?" Scythe asked, hardly surprised.   
  
"You know Zennie," Chorus said with a shrug and a smile. "She's our little monkey."   
  
As if on cue a small head with short pink hair dropped into view from above at the rear of the carriage. A face filled with a child's energy and innocence beamed happily to the troupe, laughing and giggling without a care in the world before popping back up again out of sight. Zennie was the team's source of life and vitality. The mind of a small child in the body of a late teenager that saw every new experience as something fun and amazing. Today her main point of interest was the chocobo that was pulling the carriage along, bringing the group to their dreary destination. Standing as high as nine feet tall on two strong stocky legs and often colored a bright yellow, chocobos were ostrich-like flightless birds that served as good sources of manual labor and companionship. This one seemed to enjoy the attention, calling out its trademark "wark wark!" as Zennie laughed and carried on above.   
  
Everyone laughed and forgot about their troubles for a time. There was no Midgar and there was no Shinra for a blissful fleeting moment. There was only the rattle and bumping of a carriage on an open road, only the waning sunlight that peaked through the rear of the cart and threatening to hide away forever. The crew was happy. They were content.   
  
The light atmosphere did much to calm Chorus' nerves. He had plenty to worry about, afterall, like getting past the gate without incident and making it to their safehouse unmolested. But he was glad that he could count in his crew, no, his friends, to keep him from sinking too low.   
  
Let the Shinra come for us, he thought with a smile. There's not a single member of SOLDIER who could beat us down.

* * *

  
  
The television quietly flickered it's blue and white static, lines of near-focused pictures running in all directions as the weak signal searched desperately for the imagery it was being demanded to show. The picture bounced, casting a dull blue hue to dance about the room, sound cutting in and out, with a man in a gray suit sitting stern faced before the viewer and reading the day's headlines. He cut in and out just often enough to hint that he was speaking of the completion of Shinra's final reactor, mako reactor number eight. It was a big deal to everyone, it seemed, but not to this viewer.   
  
Azure Inferna tossed the remote control onto the couch nearby and rose from her loveseat, thoroughly frustrated. Dressed in only her gray sports bra and a generously revealing piece of bikini underwear, she was obviously just lounging about her home tonight. Not lounging, she thought, more like brooding. She was bored and restless, having not heard from the Turks, her associates and partners, in quite some time. Four whole days, she thought to herself, how can we have a shortage of idiots who need to be interogated or done away with? The previous month was full of activity, with Azure happily carrying out a job nearly every night! Now she was kept waiting, and it was not sitting well with her.   
  
She strode into her kitchen and clicked on the light, extinguishing the flickering blue hue from the livingroom TV and overrunning it with the bright yellow light from the kitchen ceiling. The agitated female Turk sat down on one of the stools before the counter in the center of the room and began sorting through several files that she had thrown there several days before. Her last job, the one with the sloppy scientist whom she took care of in his seedy little hotel room on the southern end of Midgar, was sitting in all its written glory in the file she held. He had been trying to escape the city, and he would have if it weren't for Azure's superb hunting skills. Getting out of Midgar was no easy task, and only high-ranking officials of Shinra, Inc were given the pleasure. There were exceptions, of course. If one had enough money, they could arrange a little vacation. That was rare enough though.   
  
Azure sighed, trying to calm herself as she began to flip through the papers, something she had done countless times before. This job had been particularly fun, as the scientist had made the mistake of including his wife in his plans. Both were dead of course, but it didn't happen as quickly as either the man or woman would have prefered. Azure had visited them for more than an hour, and during that time the room was turned upside down and blood was everywhere. Azure's cold pale blue eyes narrowed as she smiled, remembering that night vividly.   
  
Maybe she would go out tonight. The thought wasn't a bad one, especially considering how long it had been since she had had a good romp. It wasn't often that Azure would partake in pleasures other than murder and torture, and she was beginning to feel that a little naughtiness would do her tense nerves some good. Yes, she decided, she would go out tonight, maybe even pull out one of her very few nice dresses and make it a special occasion.   
  
She was pulled from her thoughts suddenly she became aware of a presence. A whisp of air blew past her, and she lifted her head in time to see a man in a long brown trenchcoat stepping casually into her door. She scowled and ran har hand through her puple hair, her frustration mounting with each passing second.   
  
"Most people knock first," she said dryly. She knew who it was, and she didn't like him one bit, though she was forced to put up with him. The brim of the man's hat lifted, revealing an almost sickly pasty white face. Round black shades covered his eyes despite the fact that it was 2:00am, and his lips were widened in a stupid grin. A few thick strands of his moppy black hair hung out from under his hat, looking as if it hadn't been washed in weeks.   
  
"I'm not most people," he said calmly as he closed the door behind him. Azure noted his attire tonight. Besides the ridiculously cliched trenchcoat, gray dresspants poked down and ended in shiney black shoes, not unlike those she wore when she was on assignment. He wore gloves as well. For what purpose Azure could only guess.   
  
"This had better be good," she said coldly, putting the kitchen counter between her and the man. She was in her underwear, afterall, and she didn't want to give this man anything to look at. And he did so without apology, his hungry stare apparent through those damned shades. "I don't enjoy being barged in on like this."   
  
The man dipped into a low bow, tilting his head up and still grinning that insane grin. "But of course. Only a matter of great importance would allow me to view you in such an... exposed state."   
  
Azure rolled her eyes and didn't bother to hide her disgust. If he thought he was getting anything more than a peek, then she might just forget who he was for a moment and kill him where he stood. She remained silent and listened though, not wanting to give him reason to stay any longer than he had to.   
  
The man straightened and held out his hands, still grinning. "Are you not happy to see your old friend Jarlick?" he said with a chuckle. "Surely you've been bored these past few days." He noted her hands as they pushed away a few files. Her last job, he knew, and he knew his assessment was right. "Well, you may rejoice, my sweet, for I come with news that may interest you."   
  
Azure tried not to lean in and sound interested, but her impatience won out and she found herself doing so. Perhaps another murder? she hoped. Or a kidnapping? Those were always fun, too.   
  
Jarlick, as if he read her thoughts, raised a hand to stop her from making any assumptions. "Not a usual assignment for you at all, I'm afraid," he said, appearing genuinly disappointed. "Merely some reconnoissance." He reached into his jacket and produced a file, an exact replica of those on her kitchen counter. Azure could care less is this was an unusual job. At least it would be something to do.   
  
"What is it then?" she asked, keeping things to the point in hopes of being rid of the man soon.   
  
"We've recieved word from our affiliates on the central continent near Cosmo Canyon. It seems some form of resistance, a terrorist group of sorts, has been formed and has a mind to set up shop in Midgar. We recieved word a few nights ago. Thus, the information may be a little old. The group could already be here for all we know." He held the file up as he walked to the counter, tossing it casually before the fiery young woman. She glared at him, not enjoying the sight of him coming anywhere near him. He smiled wryly as he noted this and stepped back to avoid an explosion. As she opened the file he continued to explain.   
  
"We don't know much at all. They're very good, as near as we can tell, and hide themselves well. We attempted to track them but lost their trail soon after we discovered they existed. We suspect that if they were heading here then they are here already. Your job is to find out more about them, if there are any more of them, and possibley eliminate them. Our superiors want to approach this delicately because, as I said, they seem to be very good at what they do."   
  
"How many?" asked the occupied woman, turning a page as she read.   
  
"As many as five, maybe more. We're fairly sure that they kept their numbers small since they managed to elude our contacts without much trouble."   
  
Azure nodded absently, taking all of the news in. It wasn't her usual kind of work, she agreed, but it certainly sounded interesting. It didn't hurt to mix things up now and then. Besides, she had been endulging her sinister self quite a lot lately, and the last thing she wanted to happen was to grow bored of the darker side of work.   
  
She peered up at the grinning man, not bothering to lift her head to fully regard him. "Are you still here?" she asked, her words dripping with venom. Jarlick chuckled and bowed, turning slowly and stepping calmly to her door.   
  
"And a good evening to you too, my lovely," he said as he stepped out. She caught him staring at her leg, which she unintentially allowd to slip into view, and immediately pulled it back.   
  
Once he was gone she rose and stretched, feeling revitalized and refreshed. As much as she hated Jarlick, he was often the one who brought her the files that led to her fun. He was a perverted creep, but he was a man, so she didn't hold that against him. It was how he was so calm all the time, how confident and sure of himself that really got to her. She wanted to humble the man, maybe throw him from a three story building to remind him who he was dealing with. She couldn't do that, of course. Her employers wouldn't be pleased.   
  
A slight sigh escaped her as she pushed her slender fingers through her hair. She had her heart set on going out before Jarlick made his not-so-unexpected appearance. She looked at the file, then down her perfectly sculpted body, and decided that the mission could wait another night.   
  
Tonight was the night for a different, though no less enjoyable, kind of fun. 


End file.
